Pure Ecstacy
by ThruMyEyes
Summary: Harry Potter, our hero in many cases has fallen in love. But his chosen partner is not who you'd expect. Nevertheless, they're in love. But what if someone tries to break them up..? HarryDraco
1. Default Chapter

3

**Pure Ecstasy**

_Disclaimer: I, Ashley Wamsley, swear that I, sadly, do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, especially Harry with his sexy little tush and-ahem-or any the song "Good morning beautiful" or…let's see…oh yeah, any of the bands featured on the t-shirts the guys wore to the dance.  I don't own anything! Oh, wait-except the character Ashley, since it's kinda…me…but the characters Courtneigh, Jessica, and Becca are just friends of mine and in my stories I do own them and I can make them do whatever the hell I want!MWHAHAHAHAHA-oh sorry, on with the story…heh heh heh…_

Chappy 1. Cold Showers Make For Long Nights 

Draco was his name. Everyone called him by his alst name, Malfoy, but his name was Draco. He always felt left out and separated from the crowd. No one understood him,no one truly knew the Draco deep down. He had always known he was different. He had always known there was just something about him…

Harry Potter bounded over the grounds and made it to Hagrid's hut just in time. Double Care Of Magical Creatures. Oh boy, slytherins. Draco turned and looked at Harry, closely followed by his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. His hair was mussed and windblown, his cheeks flushed and his robes hanging askew. There was just something about Harry as he stood there, breathing heavily. Something almost…sensual…

Draco scolded himself. What the hell! Harry Potter was his mortal ememy, and he was straight…wasn't he?

"And this is a Hippogriff, which I've shown you before. Remember to be careful. Now, who would like to ride him?" the Hippogriff was gray and black, strongly built, and made to fly. Harry stepped up.

"I'd like to try." he said.

"Great! You remember the steps." Hagrid motioned him forward. Harry bowed and procceded to mount the animal; Hagrid had called him Niblick. He was soon flying high above their heads, dipping down in dives so close you could see every hair on his head, every glint in his eyes.

Draco looked on at him, unable to remove his eyes from Harry. He had a serious look about him, his hair ruffled and his robes now almost completely fallenoff, held on only by the crook of his arm as he tightly gripped the reins, holding on with the sheer power of his hands. You could tell he was strong, though his lean frame did not show it. One look at those hands told it all. His eyes held a raw intensity, a fierce glare that radiated and intoxicated Draco. He was enchanted.

Like a cobra to his masters music, Draco swayed slightly with each of Harry's twists and turns, moved back and forth and to the sides in a rhythmic pattern,

He couldn't get ahold of himself. He had no idea what he was thinking, or feeling, for that matter, until Harry's flight was over. As he gracefully landed Niblick, Draco realized his heart was beating fast, and his breathing was hard. His face flushed as he forced a calm and scolded himself for such thoughts.

"Anyone else?" Hagrid called out.

"Me!" Draco didn't know why he had volunteered himself, but he glared angrily at Harry as he climbed on Niblick, as if it was his fault he had thought like that.

But it did feel good to sit where he had sat, to grab the reins that he had held, which fueled Draco's empowering frustration all the more. He took hold of them and flew like he had never flown before. He flew as if he were Harry. For the rest of the class period, Draco felt oodly uncomfortable, like his gut knew something he didn't, knew something was about to happen and refused to tell his brain, but was feeding the gossip to his heart, exciting it and making it beat rapidly. When class ended, he brushed past Harry, stopped briefly in front of him, and glancing into his eyes. Was something there? He passed on, hiding his now flaming cheeks from this action.

Harry loved that flying sensation. When he's riding on a Hippogriff his heart soared along, racing the wind, and he was in a state of pure ecstacy, a europhia that was so great, he never wanted it to end. It was sorta like that feeling you get when you're in love. He was really enjoying this lesson. He was still thinking of his flying when Malfoy stopped in front of him. What was that look? There was something in Malfoy's eyes that was not usually there when the two exchanged glances. It was softer, gentler. Almost pleading. Searching. But as fast as it had come, it disappeared, as Malfoy swept past, walking quickly, with a hand nervously toying with the back of his neck.

"Huh," he thought to himself, "that's new…"

Quiditch practice. Another of Harry's favorites. This practice had left him a bit muddy and sweaty. He definitely needed a shower. After grabbing a fresh set of clothes and his shower things he headed for the bathrooms. He couldn't go to just any shower room; the one on the second floor was the most repitable. It was the cleanest, more private, and had more showering options, such as tingly blue bubbles that hummed the melody to your favorite song. He reached it and went into a changing room. He threw his clothes into the tube leading to the laundry and draped a towel around his waist. There was only one more boy here, as Harry could hear the water running in another stall. He entered his own and sighed as he turned on the hot water. Remembering his glasses were still on, he stepped back out to remove them.

Draco wearily stood under the shower head and let the spray flow over him. He stared down at the tiles, white with light blue trim. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He had felt so weird at Hagrid's hut today, and it had left him that way all day. He heard another boy enter the room and begin to undress. He heard his sigh as the shower began. Draco decided it was too steamy in there, and that he'd had enough water. He shut it off, grabbed his towel and exited his stall, just as Harry Potter emerged from one straight across from his.

His heart lept into his throat. Heat overcame him, engulfing his…um…"body".., as he noticed Harry's towel only partially wrapped around his body. He could see steam rising off his dripping form, his exposed right thigh and abdomen. Harry quickly covered himself, as did Draco, as he realized (to his utter horror) what the heat had done to his-er…"toweled section". Harry removed his glasses and pushed wet black hair from his face. Draco couldn't help himself. He strode over to Harry and raised his face to his. Slipping his hand over Harry's waist, Draco kissed him, pulling him to his chest. His kiss was deep, passionate. Harry pulled back, stunned. Had Malfoy really just kissed him! He looked in Malfoy's eyes and saw that look again. That tender, soft, pleading look that was searching for some recognition, some familiarty of the situation. He saw that Malfoy was just as confused and scared. He also saw… well, he couldn't quite place it. At that moment he felt a connection. He and Malfoy were the same. Before he could stop what was happening, he leaned in and put his arms around Malfoy and let their lips come to meet. Malfoy moved in and they pressed together. The kiss intensified and both did nothing to stop it. And neither wanted to. Draco's hand slipped down and trailed across Harry's still wet body, across his waist, his hip, his thigh.

Malfoy's touch made him squirm, made him quiver. He knew this wasn't right, but he couldn't pull away. He couldn't bring himself to tell Malfoy to stop. Then there was a creak. The door began to open and on the other side, two boys were about to walk in.

That was enough to break them apart. They flew away from each other, breathing heavily, lips red. Suddenly embarrassed, Harry turned and busied himself with his glasses that lay next to him, and Draco began preparing to leave. Stealing a last glance at Harry at the door, their eyes met and Harry gave a little nod good-bye. The two boys who had entered had no idea what had been going on, no idea what they had broken up, went about their own showers. Harry went back to his, remembering the water he had left running.

He stepped in. Hot. His blood already ran hot; he had no need to intensify the temperature. He shakily turned the dial to cold. Soaping up, he tried (unsuccessfully) to push the incident from his wandering mind.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: before I start off the chapter, I would like to thank **yeahright2** for giving me my first review! Thanx! I agree—Long Live Harry and Draco! 

Oh! Also, this fic, and the ones that will follow (there's a sequel written, a prequel underway!) should **not** be read unless the fifth Harry book has been read. Then, the following fics shouldn't be read without this one being read first. This is their 6th year. Sorry, I forgot to mention it before!

Chappy 2 Midnight secrets 

What had just happened? They had kissed. They had made out in the shower room. What was it supposed to mean, and what had made Harry kiss back? How could Draco face his friends? Stupid as they were, even they could read his face and know something was up. He lay awake the next morning. That was all he had done. He couldn't sleep; all he could do was lay there and think about Harry, think about the shower, think about his—towel. How could he have a crush on a guy? He was a guy! And of all the people, Harry Potter! They'd been enemies for as long as they'd known each other. But he did have a certain cuteness to him. More of a rugged seriousness that made him (okay, let's face it,) sexy. He got up. He had class in an hour. Might as well face the music. Draco dressed quickly and drudged down to breakfast, knowing that Harry would be there. "This is going to be awkward," he thought as one of his best friends, Goyle, snorted in his sleep across the room. Goyle and Crabbe would be up in five minutes, max, never failing to miss a meal.

Harry poked at a sausage. He was tired beyond belief. No sleep all night. He just couldn't get that kiss out of his head! It was the best kiss he'd ever had (not considering that he'd only had one wet kiss with Cho Chang.) how could he feel this for a guy! Draco's hand's playing across his skin, his tongue dancing in his mouth, and his wet, slippery body pressing against his…

"Harry!" Ron interrupted.

"Huh?" Harry looked up, startled.

"What's wrong? You're all moody and distant." Ron asked. Harry's eyes traveled across the room, watching Malfoy as he took his seat at the Slytherin table. Ron turned to see what had caught his attention.

"Is it Malfoy?"

"No! UhI mean, no, nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Just tired." He looked back down at his untouched food, embarrassed. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances.

"Well, uh, you've got that Quiditch match on Friday. Against Slytherin. Are you ready to kick some ass?" Hermione asked in an attempt to cheer him up. If thinking about bashing Slytherins in Quiditch couldn't cheer him, nothing could.

"Mmmhmfugsmmmhm" he mumbled. A bell rang.

"Ugh. Double potions." Ron grumbled. They picked up their school bags and slung them over their shoulders. Harry felt like screaming. The three fought through the slowly thinning crowd to the dungeons for potions.

"Today isugh—love potions." Snape snarled at the class. Love potions were clearly not his favorite.

"This potion basically tells your deepest secret. A person merely has to look into the potion. A heart made of the potions mist will float up and then disappear after a few seconds if the looker is in love. Another heart will join it if they are loved back. A useless potion if you ask me. Now, copy the ingredients!"

"Aww, love potions!" Hermione cooed. Harry was worried. This was going to tell all. If anything were going on, now would be the deciding moment. Everyone busied themselves with their potions, and each cauldron's contents turned pink. Harry hated pink.

Then, across the room, a thin, pink vapor rose from Malfoy's cauldron. It formed a heart above his head. A second heart followed, and joined it. They hovered there for a moment, and then disappeared.

Malfoy's face turned redder than Ron's hair. Everyone was gigging and asking about who it could possibly be. No one would even expect the truth. When the class had settled down and other hearts were appearing around the room, Draco threw a glance at Harry. He was leaned over his potion, obviously nervous, waiting for a reaction. He looked up for a moment, straight into Draco's eyes.

Then, a heart emerged from the potion and floated over his head, and another behind it. It was his turn to be embarrassed, people twittering around the room, his friends taunting.

"Oh really Harry? I never knew!" Hermione called.

"Go Harry, Lady Killer!" Ron thumped him on the back. "Anyone we know?"

"Uh, no…" Harry's voice was small.

There was no doubt about it; there was definitely feelings between the two. They didn't know how, or why, but they were there. On the way out of the classroom, they fell even, shoulder to shoulder. Both glanced at each other, and neither noticed the books in the hall. They simultaneously tripped, yelling out and landing in a heap on the floor. Snape stepped from the classroom.

"Fighting are we? Detention, both of you. Trophy room at midnight." They looked at each other. Detention with Malfoy!

"See you there." Harry muttered, pulling himself to his feet. He ambled off, thinking of what lie ahead.

"I can't believe Snape gave you a detention! You tripped! And Malfoy probably planned it all." Ron raged in the Gryffindor common room.

"No, it wasn't Dra—uh—Malfoy's fault. We really just tripped." Why was Harry defending him?

"Why have you been acting so weird lately? Has it got to do with Malfoy?" Ron questioned.

"No! —Uh, I don't know. I haven't been acting weird."

"Harry, we know when something's wrong. I'll bet it's got to do with being in love!" Hermione spoke up.

"It's nothing, just help me with this transfigurations essay." He changed the subject.

They passed the time until midnight doing homework in front of the fire.

"11:"55, Harry, might as well go." Hermione informed him, closing her book and stretching. He reluctantly said his goodbyes and set off. He was so nervous. What was going to happen? He finally understood the meaning of having butterflies in your stomach.

He reached the trophy room. It was dark, as usual, for Peeves always stole the candles. He pushed open the door and found only Malfoy, lighting some of the spare candles that had been hidden from peeves.

"Where's Snape?" Harry called out in a shaky voice. Draco turned, startled. He took a deep breath.

"He left a note saying he couldn't make it. Dumbledor needs him to help with a potion." He handed Harry the note. Harry gazed at Draco. He looked at his soft blonde hair with bits hanging around his face. His blue eyes dancing in the candle light, also confused and scared, but reassuring. Harry's own eyes traveled across his neck, his strong shoulders and arms, his hands, his lean frame and athletic legs. Harry noticed the way he stood, confident and sure. And suddenly they were moving closer and closer, until Harry could count every lash above his eyes. He could smell Draco's breath sweet and warm, and almost taste his tongue, tangy and playful. His lips, cherry red, and warm as Harry's own pressed against them, soft and firm. The kiss was intense, and passion flowed between them, sending sparks through his body.

The temperature seemed to rise as their tongues intertwined, lips locked. Harry's hand was on Draco's neck, the other shyly exploring his waistline, pushing aside his robes and safely saying, going were no man had gone before. Draco's hands slipped over Harry's shoulders and pushed his school robe off. Harrry, without knowing why, let it drop.

Now Draco's hands were untucking Harry's shirt, pushing it up. He let him remove it, let his hands play over his chest and down his stomach to his fly. There was a moment of hesitation. This was all so new to both of them, neither knew if they wanted to proceed, and if so, they didn't know what to do. There hadn't actually been any exchange of words. Harry knew, and Draco as well, that if they proceeded they could never go back; they would both have to face the change. Their lips pressed together once more and the passion again rose. Harry leaned in with an encouraging moan. Draco's hands continued, and Harry's pants and boxers dropped to the floor. He suddenly felt very exposed and he didn't care. He was living for the moment, for the thrill and excitement of this so-called God-shaming pursuit. It just felt so risqué and so sensual. He felt he was understood. Loved…wanted…

Draco's skin was warm and soft against his; Draco was being undressed by an eager Harry, an exploring Harry. Hands and lips wandered. Parts of them that never been exposed to prying eyes were now caressed and explored by the unthinkable…

The candlelight was dieing low as Harry and Draco lay on the floor, entwined in the clothes they'd shed an hour ago. Caresses had grown long and passionate, sweet and tender. Slowly heating up again, the two each silently contemplated the possibilities of what lay ahead. The new carefree Harry didn't mind, he just wanted to feel like this forever. This closeness made him feel a resolve like never before. This rush of emotion was making him do things he never thought possible.

Draco was moving behind him, shaking slightly, unbelieving that he was even thinking of doing what he was about to do. He waited for some sort of signal that it was okay. When Harry didn't protest, Draco continued. There was a moment when both drew in a sharp breath, shuddering slightly, easing into this intimacy. They went slow at first, awkward and undecided. Then, they caught the hang of it, easing into a rhythmic pattern, a dance of their own, moving to their own beat. Heartbeats. Their hearts beat as one, rapidly increasing as did their tempo as they went steadily faster and faster, experiencing pain and ecstasy like never before.

Finally, Draco peaked and gave one final stroke before pulling out. Houston, we have landed. He lay next to Harry on the clothes and slowed his breathing, wiping his sweaty brow. Harry lay tenderly on his back, ignoring the pain and only concentrating on the pleasure running through him. Each lay in the last remnants of light, not speaking, until Harry broke the silence.

"M—Draco? What's happening between us?" he asked hesitantly.

"I'm not sure. I don't know what to make of…of everything." Draco responded.

"Well, it's definitely something. You know as well as I that you can't just ignore…that." Harry was becoming uneasy.

"Okay, Harry, I want to see you again, I'll just come right out and say it. But secretly, because our friends would go nuts. I mean, uh, if you want to see me, that is." He went from headstrong to uneasy, as did Harry. Harry sat up.

"Yes I do, amazingly," he scoffed, "but I think we should take it slow. I mean, yesterday we hated each other's guts. Today we're…uh, well, you were there." Harry hinted.

They worked out a plan to meet at the Hogs Head on the next Hogs mead trip on Saturday, in three days.

"Oh, hey, we have that Quiditch game tomorrow. We're gona smash you!" Harry joked, punching him playfully in the ribs.

"Not if we murder you first!" Draco tried to grab him but Harry dashed off, running to the other side of the trophy room. Draco caught him, tackling him to the floor, pecking him quickly on the lips smiling, before letting him up and each returning to their own dormitories.

A/N: Well, the second chappy is on! I'm really lovin' the relationship that's budding here, don't know about you readers. But I would like to know how you feel, thoughts and opinions. Random comments. Anything. LoL, so R&R please! Or I'll type the next chappy completely in French, LoL! Tres embetant, n'est pas?


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